Former Polar flourishes in football for family and for friends gone too soon
Story and photos by Azhae’la Hanson, Reporter
The boom of pre-game fireworks pound his chest. His teammates surround him, their Husker battle cries echoing as they rhythmically pound their helmets. The stadium is quaking beneath his feet, shaken by the thunderous roar of the crowd of over 80,000 that has come to witness their champions.
As the sea of players flood out of the tunnel, the former Polar finds solace in the act of kneeling. For a moment, the chaos surrounding him begins to fade, leaving only the steady rhythm of his heart echoing in his chest.
“Omarai, Kayvon, Nate” he says to himself.
“Dad, Grandma, Mom… Thank you.”
He takes a deep breath and the chaos resumes. The Saturday night lights come into view as he emerges from the tunnel and runs to the field.
With each stride, he carries with him the dreams of the little Black boys who want to make it big and make it out. He carries the dreams of those who passed and never got the chance, and he carries the dreams of his mother. Each game he recites their names as a reminder to keep going no matter how many times he’s knocked down.
Brown carried the defense of the Nebraska Cornhuskers in the early part of the season, earning a Blackshirt that recognizes the team's top defenders. This is no surprise to the Northside, as a Polar he was the top cornerback recruit in Minnesota. He made his way to Nebraska from the University of Northern Iowa in 2022 where he earned First-team All American, Defensive Freshman of the Year, and was a first-team-all conference pick. He has collected 159 career tackles so far.
His final season with the Cornhuskers started with a homecoming debut for Brown when he played against the University of Minnesota in August.
Solana Anderson, Brown’s mom rallied 64 people, family friends and Polar alumni alike to forsake the maroon and yellow for Nebraska's scarlet and cream. She sported her favorite jersey that read “Omeezy’s Mom.”
“My mom is my biggest supporter,” Brown said. “She gives me all she has, so I give the field all I have.”
That morning of the game, Anderson woke up and shouted so loudly she was sure it shook the Northside. She said a prayer of faith for him, of believing what he cannot see.
“The joy I had was unlike any joy I’ve had. It was this overwhelming feeling I've never had before. I saw Omar go through it in a way I've never seen before. And he's still going, he didn't give in, he didn't give up.”
Supporting Brown is the largest part of Anderson's life, she could probably count on her hands how many of Omar’s games she missed in his life. She has Omar’s awards and photos plastered all over their family home in North Minneapolis, and has even skipped mortgage payments in order to fund opportunities for her son.
“Omar has the discipline, dedication, and commitment that I haven't even done in my own life. That really inspires me,” Anderson said.
She remembers the first time Brown was sacked. He laid on the ground for a few moments, and then got right back up. She saw him spit something out and when she asked what it was he smiled–he had just lost a tooth.
“That’s when I knew I had a tough kid on my hands,” she said.
She comes from a strong matriarchal foundation so when it came to supporting her own kids, she naturally rose above and beyond the task. As Brown got older, Solana became the team mom by default. Brown would bring his friends and teammates by and Anderson found herself in the routine of feeding hungry teenage boys and then calling after them to shut the door as they went back out to play football together. Some of them were new and some old from Brown's parkboard days.
“I’m a ride or die for my son,” she said. “And it's not just football, but it's for his life.”
A lot of Brown’s teammates would come to her and say that if she was their mom, they’d know they’d make it out. It was endearing at first, and then it hurt to hear.
Anderson remembers a fateful day playing kickball in the parks with Brown during a summer in high school when he picked up his phone. She remembers him running off, she saw his sweet smile fading on his face, and to see him in such pain, to her felt almost as impossible as the sun itself dying.
She learned later that one of his friends, a kid who sat at her table, had been shot and killed.
“I thought it was going to break him,” she said.”
It was not the first nor the last death Brown endured. She says since childhood, he’s one of the last standing in his friend group. In high school alone, Brown lost four friends and teammates to gun violence. While in college, there were deaths so frequent she didn’t want him to come home.
“He called me this summer and told me he didn’t know what he’d do if he lost someone else,” Anderson said.
An uncontrollable reality so similar to those who leave the Northside to shine on a bigger stage, they bring with them this grief of losing people along the way. And that grief turns into the reason. To get up and keep moving forward.
During his visit to Minnesota, one friend held a necklace high and said:
“Do it for him, O!,”
In the necklace was a photo of Kayvon Williams, a friend that was lost to gun violence the year prior.
“We all had them, they're the same dream, and he’s living them. He’s living all our dreams, Eli Campell, a friend and former teammate said.”
“Go Omar!”, his mom shouted.
For his mom, for the kids he developed, his dream to make it to the NFL with, and for himself, he gets back up.
“I do it for them,” Brown said.
Brown will be finishing his final semester at the University of Nebraska in December He will graduate with a degree in childhood and youth studies and is preparing to enter the NFL draft in spring 2024.
“I can’t wait,” Brown smiled.